A Good Idea At The Time
by l03l
Summary: Tony and Ziva, the morning after. Where will it lead?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

PROLOGUE

She woke with a thumping headache, a result of a few too many drinks the night before. Sitting up, the unfamiliar surroundings suddenly became apparent, and she brought her hand to her temple, as if rubbing it would make the events of last night disappear, along with her thumping headache. She found her shirt on the floor and buttoned it slowly, before finding the rest of her clothes from the night before.

_It had seemed like a good idea at the time. _

"Morning sunshine," came his voice from the bed, a bemused smile playing across his boyish face.

"Good morning," she responded, standing. She refused to turn around and look him in the eye, although she could already see the satisfied look on his face. She leaned over to pick up the rest of her belongings, stealing a glance at him before she turned to leave.

"This never happened, Tony," she told him plainly, however she knew by the grin across his face that he wouldn't leave it at that.

"I beg to differ, Ziv-ah, because you see there are some memories imprinted in my mind that I'm fairly fond of and don't feel like forgetting anytime soon. For example –"

"I'll see you at work, Tony," she cut him off, heading for the door.

"Don't you even want to carpool? C'mon haven't you seen_ An Inconvenient Truth_? Save the planet Ziva!" He yelled, although she had already slammed the door shut.


	2. Crash

CHAPTER ONE

She sat at her desk feigning work, and each time the elevator dinged her head glanced up involuntarily to check if it was Tony. When he finally did arrive, even McGee commented.

"Tony, you're late."

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled, taking a seat at his desk.

He stole at look at Ziva, who immediately looked down at her keyboard, as Gibbs waltzed into the squad room, coffee in hand.

"You're late, DiNozzo," he said, leaving his coffee on his desk.

"Won't happen again, boss," Tony responded automatically, standing.

"Kidnapped marine. DiNozzo, take Ziva, interview the family. McGee, you're with me."

They all stood, Tony following Ziva to the elevator with the same bemused smile that he had had all morning. They stood in silence waiting in the elevator, surrounded by others who waited patiently for their floor to arrive. When they were finally alone, Tony reached for the emergency button, turning to face her.

"I think we need to talk about what happened last night," he said quietly, and Ziva frowned, caught off guard by his sincerity.

"That is where we disagree," she responded, leaning across to pull the button. He cut in between her and the button, resting his hand on her hip.

"Ziva," he whispered, but she refused to break.

"We need to get to work, Tony," she said, pushing past him. The elevator continued with a jerk, as Tony stared up at the ceiling, now irritated too.

"This is not the time," she whispered, as he resisted the urge to respond. Turning this into a fight would only ensure that the only outcome he could accept wouldn't occur.

It had been years since he had admitted to himself his true feelings for his co-worker. Admitting it to her was the hard part. He would have been ecstatic that it was finally out in the open, except that he was fairly certain that she had traded her memory of last night with that last shot of tequila. Or she just wanted to forget, he wasn't sure what was worse.

_It had been just another night, ending at the bar. By eleven the others had left, and it was just the two of them, sitting across from each other in the corner of the bar. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. When he reached for her hand she didn't pull away, that's when he told her he loved her. That he had always loved her. She had kissed him first, and although he could taste the alcohol on her breath, and was completely surprised by her reaction, he had been too content to stop it. _

It was the slowest elevator ride she could remember, with Tony pouting visibly beside her. When the elevator finally stopped she turned to snatch the keys from him, but he stopped her.

"I'm driving. I have no desire to see my breakfast for a second time this morning," he told her irately, so she took a seat in the passenger side silently.

_When he began saying that he loved her, her first reaction was to run. But something about the way he spoke made her stay seated, and instead she kissed him softly. She could tell he was surprised, but he didn't pull away, and in that moment, it had seemed like a good idea. _

However sitting in a car for an hour in silence made her realise it wasn't worth it. If she had been driving she could have split this awkward travel time in half, but Tony was Tony, and he had refused to look ahead and see this.

"There are aspirin in the glove box if you want some," he again spoke softly, as if last night had turned him into a human being, instead of the lovable clown that she had fallen in love with.

"I took some this morning," she responded, still focusing her gaze straight ahead. She knew that one look into those eyes could make her melt, and this was not the time or place.

"Tony," she began, and with one look in his direction, their eyes locked, and the next time he glanced at the road, there was a truck stopped in front of them, and he had no time to stop.


	3. Tomorrow?

CHAPTER TWO

They were taken to emergency, despite assuring the paramedics that they were fine.

They both had stitches but were otherwise fine, and they waited in the emergency room to be discharged. Ziva's hand brushed over the bandage that was pulled across her head, and Tony gave her a small smile.

"That'll be sure to leave a sexy little scar," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"This would not have happened if I was driving," she told him and his smile brightened, as he turned to face her.

"I'm sorry, Ziva," he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Never say you're sorry," she recited. "It's a sign of weakness,"

"Rules are made to be broken," he reminded her, as he took her hand and stroked it softly.

She gave him a small smile as she realised what he was saying, as Abby came rushing in. He dropped her hand, as Abby almost knocked them over with a hug.

"I'm so glad you're both okay! How did this happen?" She asked.

"Tony was driving," Ziva said, as he shot her a look that wasn't nearly as angry as it would have been in the past.

"Gibbs and McGee are busy with the case, but I am here to bring the rest of team Gibbs home safely." She announced and Ziva smiled, sitting up.

"I, for one, am ready to go," she decided, ignoring the pain in her head that had only slightly increased from this morning.

It took a while to be discharged, but when they were finally able to leave, they all returned to the office with Abby, despite her intentions to take them home. They were stuck at their desks for the rest of the day while McGee and Gibbs were in the field, something which they both found frustrating.

By the end of the day they were both more than ready to go home, Tony once again following Ziva to the elevators.

"Have I convinced you that we need to talk yet?" He asked, and she shook her head, stepping into the elevator.

"It has been a long day, Tony," she said, as he pressed the elevator doors closed.

"They're all long Ziva," he reminded her.

"This one particularly so," she said in an attempt to end the conversation. But although she tried, she knew Tony too well to think that he would let it go. To think that he would even let them finish the elevator ride in silence was ridiculous.

"Fine. If you'd rather talk about work, then you can tell me how brilliant I am for solving the case," he said, his mouth twisting into the grin that she had initially despised but had learnt to love.

She rolled her eyes, as the elevator doors opened. She got out quickly, as he followed her to her car.

She unlocked her car, expecting Tony to move, but he stood, so she opened the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she stated, and he nodded, closing the door after she had sat down in the driver's seat.

"See you tomorrow," he responded automatically, watching as she drove away. Well, he knew that it wasn't going to be easy.


	4. 12 34

CHAPTER THREE

12.34 was the time illuminated on the clock on her oven, and she knew before she even opened the door who was standing there.

She opened the door in silence, staring at him expectantly. He was the one on her doorstep, after all.

After a few moments of silence, and watching him squirm uncomfortably outside her apartment, she rubbed her eyes, and responded.

"What do you want, Tony?" She asked. Her tone wasn't even demanding, simply questioning. If it had been anyone else it would have sounded desperate, but it was Ziva and she had a way of asking questions while maintaining all of the power.

He stood on her doorstep, after already having downed a beer working up the courage to drive over. He watched her, mesmerised, her shadowy figure clear, and it was all he could do to block out the memory of his hands all over her body.

After he had paused too long to respond to her question in words, he stepped forward, surprised that she didn't step away, and drew her into his arms. She didn't try to fight him, or move away. She simply stood as he held her, arms around her waist, her mouth hovering millimetres away from his. He closed the distance quickly, savouring the taste of her lips. It took her a moment to respond, but when she did, she pulled him into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind them with a swift kick. She dragged him into her bedroom, her lips never leaving his.

This time she woke with his arm draped over her hip possessively, in an obvious attempt to stop her from leaving, because he knew she would, even if this was her apartment. She knew that she could get up without him noticing, but instead used his arm as an excuse to stay put. She moved slightly closer, enjoying the warmth of his touch. It was Saturday, and they had the weekend off. Ziva almost wished they had work, anything, any excuse or reason to prevent the conversation she knew Tony would not let her avoid today.

"Good morning," she heard him whisper, and she smiled at the sound of his voice, gravely, slightly groggy, still sleepy.

"Good morning," she repeated, as she rolled over to face him. His arm remained curled around her, his hand slipping into the small of her back as she turned. He leaned closer to kiss him, ever so slowly, testing what she would allow.

It had been five years, and she could read him from the beginning, but he still couldn't read her. He didn't know whether she had been waiting for him to kiss her, or was about to threaten to kill her with her car key. But when their lips met it was worth it, the way she returned the kiss, the way she let him pull her closer, until their bodies were touching.

"How did you sleep?" He asked, and she was struck by the intimate nature of the question, something you would only ask a lover, a wife, a girlfriend.

"Well," she whispered truthfully, leaving out the fact that it had been one of the rare nights that she had slept through the night without waking, drenched in sweat, from a nightmare. It was happening less and less as time passed, however she was yet to be rid of them entirely.

"Good," he grinned, tucking her hair behind her ears, and pulling her face towards his for a gentle kiss.

She sighed, resting her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He ran his hand through her hair slowly, stroking his fingers from her hairline, all the way through her unruly curls.

They fell into comfortable silence, as he revelled in the way she let him stroke her hair, so intimately, without threatening him with bodily harm. She enjoyed the way his hands soothed her; there was no desire in his touch, unlike there had always been before, simply comfort, and although she didn't want to admit it, she couldn't help but wish he'd never stop.

He did stop, however, at the sound of a knock on the door, and she frowned.

"Expecting someone?" he asked, and she frowned.

"No," she answered softly, as she slipped on a robe, and reached for her gun on the bedside table, just in case.

He couldn't help but be disappointed as she disappeared down the corridor, so gracefully.

He sat up slowly, looking for his boxers, which he found strewn in the doorway. He put his shirt back on for good measure, before following the path that Ziva had taken, to see who was at the door, pausing in the doorway as he heard her say one word.

"Ray."


	5. Fog

CHAPTER FOUR

She opened the door, still under a Tony-induced fog, completely surprised by the man who stood on her doorstep.

"Ray," she murmured in shock, as he entered her apartment before she even had a chance to stop him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, as she followed him into the kitchen, casting a quick glance to the closed bedroom door.

"I actually just returned," he told her, his arm slipping around her waist as she stepped back instinctively from his touch.

Tony crept towards the door, lingering in the door way as he heard their voices float down the hallway.

"Where have you been?" She asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Israel," he told her in one word, as if that didn't raise a million more questions.

"What were you – " she began, as he slipped a hand into his pocket, placing a ring on the table.

"I had something to ask your father," he spoke softly with a glint in his eye, as a chill ran through her body.

Since they sat in the break room, she had not given a lot of thought to how he would propose, if he did. She was not one to be impressed by big gestures, but in her kitchen, without seeing or speaking to him in almost a year, with _Tony _in her bedroom probably listening to every word, was not exactly what she had imagined.

"Ray…" she began.

"You already have the box," he explained, picking up the ring.

There was no grand gesture, no getting down on one knee, it was just the two of them sitting at the kitchen table, as ordinary as anything.

"I want you to be me wife, Ziva,"

"We have not spoken in almost a year," she reminded him, cutting in before he asked the actual question. "You cannot tell me that you spent the last year in Israel with my father."

A ghost of a smile – no, a smirk she decided – passed over his face, so quickly she almost didn't catch it, still mesmerised by the feeling of Tony's breath on her skin. Something she never was with Ray, she realised.

"Ziva, you know that I can't discuss work," he said, and she frowned, not even bothering to hide it. "I don't ask you about your work, and you don't ask me about mine. It has never been an issue in the past,"

"Yes, but I do not disappear for months at a time without so much as an email, then return and expect to pick up where we left off," she said quietly, trying to soften the blow they both knew was coming.

"Are you saying no… Or not _yet_?" He clarified, and she looked into her hands as she answered.

"I am saying no," she told him.

It had been eleven months, and while she had initially missed him, it had faded far too quickly, to the point where a month later she did not even notice his absence, and now… his arrival should have made her heart jump, made her grin, made her act like the _girl_ she knew hid underneath the assassin. There had been a time when she would settle for a life with Ray, a life with a man whose job was as complicated and as secretive as hers had been, who would treat her well, but not make her heart jump. But now, she was an American citizen, she had a job, which while it was dangerous, was far more normal that anything she had had in the past. Her life was coming together, and suddenly she had no desire to settle.

He stood up quickly, the chair making a harsh noise as it was forced across the floor far too rapidly.

"But when I left… You were… You didn't want me to leave…" Confusion crossed his face, and sent a pang of guilt to her stomach.

"You could have called, or emailed… You left it too long," she said, realising thankfully that Tony had remained in the bedroom, and not sauntered out, making the situation worse.

"You moved on?" He questioned, hurt flashing in his eyes.

"You left it too long," she repeated, and the hurt turned to anger.

"Goodbye, Ziva," he said, with one hand on the door handle, waiting for a reason to stay.

She gave none.

"Goodbye, Ray."

The door slammed shut, and she sat back down at the table, tapping her fingers across the table. She felt a wave of emotion wash over her, an emotion she had trouble placing. Guilt? Sadness? Relief?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Thank you to those who have reviewed, I really appreciate it; they make me feel all happy inside. Any comments, positive or negative are welcomed, please let me know what's working so I can improve :) I'm new to ff, so any feedback is useful :) **

**Also, I will post new chapters when they are ready, so the next one is also up. Updates should be fairly regular, the next 4 chapters have already been written, I just have to do a little editing. **

**Thanks again, **

**-L**


	6. Stuck

CHAPTER FIVE

He had listened to their conversation, barely understanding what they were talking about initially, without being able to watch them interact. He had felt uncomfortable from the beginning, listening to Ray's all too charming words. The only thing that put him at ease was the lack of happiness and excitement in Ziva's voice when she had opened the door.

"_What are you doing here?"_

Hardly a welcoming greeting, he had convinced himself.

"_I want you to be my wife, Ziva," _he had told her. Tony's heart had stopped, before he could laugh at the ridiculous choice of words. _You're asking Ziva David to marry you, and the best you can come up with is I want you to be my wife?_ Despite knowing that those were not words that would convince Ziva to marry anyone, they echoed in his head, taunting him. What if she was about to say yes? He wanted to burst out of the bedroom half dressed, and tell Ray to leave, because Ziva wanted him. Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, not CI-Ray. But he didn't know that, he reminded himself. Sure, they had moved further forward in their relationship in the last week than they had in the last five years, but… it had just been sex, he forced himself to acknowledge. While he had told her that he loved her, she had skilfully avoided any words with meaning. No 'I love you,' no form of endearment at all, not even after sex. He had stroked her hair and told her she was beautiful, and all she did was allow him to do so. When he had seen the scars that had covered her back the night before, scars he had realised were not present when they went undercover together, he had kissed each one of them softly, as if he could will away her memory of what led to their presence. She had tensed immediately, and they had not spoken of it afterward, but he was still proud of the way she trusted him so much that she had allowed herself to be vulnerable. It was the most she had given him in terms of letting him know how she felt, and he was still unsure as to whether that moment had been as significant for her and it had been for him.

"_We have not spoken in almost a year," _she had told Ray, and he couldn't supress the smile. She was turning him down slowly, in the nicest way possible. Did that mean she didn't want to hurt his feelings? Tony's smile vanished.

It was driving him crazy, being stuck in her bedroom, listening to her talk to CI-Ray. Listening to CI-Ray tell her that he had gone all the way to Israel to ask her father's permission, whether it was true or not. Was that the kind of thing that would impress Ziva? Or offend her? Tony realised that he didn't even know.

"_I am saying no,"_ those words made his grin appear again, as he sighed with relief. She may not have told him that she loved him, that she wanted _him_, but she was telling Ray in no uncertain terms that what she didn't want was CI-Ray.


	7. Hidden

CHAPTER SIX

Tony waited as long as he could before emerging from the bedroom. He told himself that Ziva needed space. If she wanted his company, she would come to him. He lay on her bed studying the simple cotton bedspread, the paintings that hung on the wall, paintings he hadn't expected from Ziva. In a moment where his self-control lost to temptation and curiosity, he let his fingers wander through her top drawer… A hairbrush, some loose change, her NCIS badge, her car keys, condoms. Items so normal, it hardly seemed like Ziva's drawer he was snooping through. But Ziva was normal people, he reminded himself, smiling at the memory. Without stumbling over anything personal in the top drawer he felt no guilt as he made his way to the second, with the premise of giving Ziva the time and space she needed. If he didn't occupy himself, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going to her. At least, that is what he told himself, as he found a small number of photos tucked at the back of the second drawer. He leafed through them. Ziva as a child, with her father. Ziva with Ari and Tali, well so he assumed. Michael. Ziva with a woman he could only guess was her mother, a small child. None of Ray, but none of him either, which tainted the small victory. He was tempted to take the photo of him and his mother that he kept in his wallet and add it to the collection, marking the place he wanted to claim in her life. He wondered if Ziva would notice. If she would know who it was in the photo. With the photos were letters, letters addressed to Ziva that seemed so personal that he wouldn't allow himself to read them. Until he found the one that was all too familiar. The only postcard he had sent her from his time as an agent afloat. She claimed she never received it. He smiled at the words, the silly jokes he had used to hide his misery, all the while knowing she would see right through it. He returned the drawers contents, embarrassed to have found a side to Ziva he didn't know existed, and one that she didn't want him to know existed. One that kept mementos, memories hidden in a drawer along with her emotions.

He made her bed, and then lay on it, before being unable to leave her alone any longer.

"Ziva?" He called, wanting her to have fair warning he was coming, although he knew that Ziva probably knew the moment he decided to exit the bedroom.

"Mmmm?" She asked, looking up at him. He held out a hand, and she took it, as he pulled her up, into a hug.

No words were exchanged; neither had ever been good with words when it came to feelings anyway. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't come up with anything with her body pressed against his.

They were interrupted by a phone call, but ignored it, that was until it stopped and another phone began to ring.

"Gibbs," Ziva sighed, extracting herself from Tony's arms, although not before he planted a quick kiss on her head.

"David," she answered the phone, and nodded to Tony when Gibbs' voice came floating back in response.

"Yes, I will see you soon," she hung, up but Tony had already disappeared back into the bedroom, pulling his jeans on over his boxers.

"He will call you too," she reminded him, and he shrugged.

"Happy to help you get dressed first," he smirked, touching her shoulders lightly as he slipped the robe away. It pooled at her feet, and his breath hitched once again at the sight of her.

"We cannot be late, Tony," she warned him, but she was already responding to his touch.

"Says who?" He grinned, pressing his lips to hers.


	8. Bang

CHAPTER SEVEN

They arrived together, after having taken separate cars, to find McGee already at his desk, working.

"Why are we being called in on the weekend?" Tony complained, dropping his bag at his desk.

"I thought you liked coming in on the weekend, because you get an insight into everyone's lives," McGee stated, as Tony rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you're dressed for work as usual McBoy-Scout, and…" He trailed off, looking to Ziva. He smirked and she narrowed her eyes in response, sending his gaze back to McGee.

"Why are we here?" He asked again, as Ziva laughed. He was too afraid to mention that he was getting a much more interesting insight into her life _outside_ of work.

"Case Gibbs had years ago, serial killer, very specific MO, seems as though the guy has struck again," McGee answered.

"Suspects?" Ziva questioned.

"Yeah, the guy Gibbs put away for the first eight murders, Neil Hunter."

. . . . .

"Where's Gibbs?" Tony asked.

"Went out to the prison to question Hunter. Abby's running DNA found at the crime scene, I'm going to see what she's got," McGee left, leaving Tony and Ziva in an all to empty bullpen.

Tony sauntered over to her desk, leaning against the edge.

"I'm sorry about Ray," he told her, with all the sincerity he could muster.

She laughed at his attempt. "It has been over for a long time. He just was yet to realise it,"

He nodded. He wanted to tell her that he loved her again, but instead settled for something else.

"We still need to have that conversation," he reminded her and she smiled.

"Later," she said, and he sighed.

"Tonight," he told her, the frustration winning.

"Fine." She turned her gaze to her computer, although he didn't move.

She already knew what he was going to say, he would repeat something similar to what he had said that night at the bar, inhibitions having being previously lowered by alcohol, and then expect to hear the same from her. She just wasn't sure that was something she could give him.

Ziva had returned to her computer, ignoring Tony's presence beside her, his gaze burning into the back of her head.

He knew she was scared. The emotionally stunted Mossad ninja who could face knives, bullets, near death situations with a smile, was afraid of having a conversation. Normally, he would have made a joke, no, multiple jokes about it, continued throughout the course of the day, but today he didn't want to give her just another excuse to avoid it.

The elevator dinged, and McGee emerged, with Abby by his side.

"Got a match from the DNA at the crime scene," McGee began.

"Mitch Hunter," Abby finished.

. . . . .

Gibbs entered the bullpen, coffee in hand.

"Got a DNA match, boss," McGee told him.

"Mitch Hunter," Gibbs finished, as McGee nodded.

"Brothers," McGee stated, shaking his head.

"What are you waiting for?" Gibbs asked, as they each snapped into action. "Let's go pick him up."

. . . . .

Mitch Hunter's house was small, and Tony and Ziva entered from the back, only to find Mitch Hunter standing in the middle of the house with a gun, pointed at Gibbs and McGee, who were aiming their guns right back at him.

"International sign of guilt," Tony whispered to Ziva, causing her to smile, and Mitch to swing around and point the gun at Ziva.

"Why did you kill that woman, Mitch?" Ziva asked him calmly, as Tony gripped his gun so hard his knuckles turned white.

"You shoot her, we shoot you," Tony warned. "Or, we can bring you in and you'll at least be able to share a cell with your brother in prison."

His gun moved to Tony, his finger a millisecond faster than Gibbs', but much less accurate.

The bullet went through Tony's arm, lodging itself in the wall behind him, while Gibbs' bullets were lodged in Hunters heart.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for a chapter with lots about the case and not lots about the Tiva :P but the next few chapters will rectify that, I just felt that Gibbs wouldn't send them home with an active case (as much as **_**I**_** wanted to) so I tried to make it a quick one. Also, I know absolutely nothing about crime, apart from what I learn on NCIS, **_**so**_**, I apologise for any mistakes (and the simplicity of the plot).**

**If you have a spare moment, a review would be nice :)**

**(And thank you so much to those who have reviewed previous chapters, each one of your comments have motivated me to update faster.)**


	9. Stay

CHAPTER EIGHT

She dropped to the floor with Tony, pressing her hand into the wound, applying pressure as McGee rang for an ambulance. _If she had reacted one moment faster… _She needed a head slap. She should have seen that coming. Tony's comments were irritating enough when you were prepared for them, let alone when you were on edge and holding a gun. She should know.

"Couldn't just shut your mouth?" She asked, and he smiled, despite the colour draining from his face.

"I just can't help myself." He reached for her hand and she gave it to him willingly, despite Gibbs' presence, keeping the other applying pressure.

He motioned for her to lean closer, and she did, his warm breath tickling her ear as he spoke.

"If you think this will get you out of the conversation we have scheduled for tonight, think again," he choked out in a whisper. She let out a deep laugh, raising an eyebrow at the challenge.

The ambulance arrived and loaded him into the back of the van, his hand still attached to Ziva's.

"I will go with him," Ziva said, looking Gibbs in the eye.

He gave a small nod, and she was unable to decipher what he knew, whether he could see right through them.

She stepped into the ambulance, closing the doors. Taking a seat beside the gurney, she looked at him, disregarding the paramedic's presence.

"Two things will happen tonight, Tony, both preventing this conversation," she told him firmly. "You will be affected by the pain medication and I will go home to a bath and a book after a long day at work."

"You're not going to stay with me?" He asked, and she stared at him, forcing herself to believe that he wasn't going to die.

"No," she smiled, although she knew that she would.

"You say that now," he forced a smile, despite that simple word having hurt more than the bullet hole, "but come tonight, you just won't be able to resist the DiNozzo charm."

She smiled at the way he could be so _Tony _even with a bullet hole in his arm.

"You think so?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll be topless, with a bandage around my wound." He sighed. "You have no hope. I know girls like you David. The bullet hole is a complete turn on, isn't it?"

She laughed, despite the blush rising to her cheeks.

"Oh sure," she told him her voice dripping in forced sarcasm.

He smiled.

. . . . .

It was late at night by the time he had been treated and was having morphine induced dreams. Ziva was still at his bedside, and while Gibbs, McGee, Abby and Ducky had all come to visit and check on him, they had all gone home for the night. He was to be monitored for the night and discharged the next day, and while he had been determined to have a more serious conversation with Ziva then allowing her to eat his dessert, either the pain, the drugs or someone seemed to get in the way. Nurses, doctors, McGee, then Gibbs and Ducky, then Abby for what seemed like forever. He had finally given into sleep, Ziva's hand still covering his, providing comfort even in his sleep. She had refused to leave, although she simultaneously refused to let the scared intern bring her in a cot. When he had told her that it was past visiting hours and only family could stay, she had checked Tony was asleep before threatening to kill him with his own hospital ID. He had then proceeded to offer her a cot, which she declined, remaining in the chair beside his bed.

"I told you you'd stay," he said, smirking.

"I suppose your charm was irresistible," she laughed.

"I love you, Ziva," he murmured sleepily, and her head snapped up to look him in the eye.

"I know that you aren't going to say it back, and I know unless I acknowledge that, you will leave, and pretend that I said that under a drug induced haze when I was half asleep."

"You are under a drug induced haze. And how do you know I won't leave anyway?" She asked, but when she went to stand, his grip on her hand tightened.

"I love you, Ziva," he repeated. "And while you still scare me, and I rarely know what you're thinking, I do _know_ you. And I know that _this_ scares you, because you run from it every chance you get. But this time I won't let you," he said this, knowing that holding her hand wasn't going to stop her from walking away.

But that doesn't mean it hurt any less when she did.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I could never hurt Tony or Ziva… Or anyone else for that matter, but I do enjoy drama :P**

**Was going to spend this evening doing my ridiculous amount of reading for uni (really, who was I kidding, I am the queen of procrastination) but instead finished up this chapter :D thankyou to all those who reviewed/put this story in their alerts/favourite stories, waking up to find my email full of notifications is nice :D**

**Also, I have less knowledge of medicine then I do of crime, so apologies. No idea what would happen after being shot through the arm. **


	10. Words

CHAPTER NINE

She left slowly and quietly giving him a long time to watch her as she left without a second glance. He wondered whether she had left because she was afraid, or because she actually didn't love him. Whether this had all just been sex, and while it had been incredible, it had left him wanting something far more. Tears sprung to his eyes for a millisecond before he forced them away, realising that the morphine didn't dull the feeling of a broken heart.

Ziva walked slowly out of the hospital, her feet not making a sound until she was outside the building. Her car was still at work; she realised, and kicked a nearby stone in frustration. Waiting for a cab, her mind replayed the conversation involuntarily.

"_I love you, Ziva," he had repeated so earnestly, with so much sincerity. _

No one in her life had spoken those words so sincerely, apart from Tali. But Tali had spoken them with childlike simplicity, not with the gravity and purpose that Tony had. As if all of his energy was going into her understanding the truth of those words.

She had been so unprepared for them, although she had heard them before, and knew they were coming.

She spent the cab ride to the office in silence, before picking up her car and driving home. She let herself into her apartment, falling onto her bed in exhaustion. The bed that Tony had made so meticulously, for her, twice. She could still smell his scent on the pillow, and she didn't have the overwhelming urge to wash it away. Instead she inhaled it, and wondered why she had run away in the first place.

. . . . .

She woke with the realisation that Tony was being discharged today, and that she had said that she would be the one to take him home. She could have called McGee, or Abby, or Gibbs, even, but when it came down to it, she couldn't bring herself to. So instead, she found herself back at the hospital that morning. She lingered outside his door, wondering when she had become so indecisive, so unsure.

He was sitting up in bed when she entered, looking better physically then the night before, but his face was twisted into what seemed to be a permanent scowl.

"Good morning," she spoke, and he looked up.

"Good morning," he responded, devoid of any emotion, eyes blank as he tried to block out the conversation they had had last night. The one that had made sleep last night an impossibility.

"I came to take you home," she explained, and he nodded. She looked to his breakfast tray, and the ruminants of the small pastry that had come with his cereal. She wondered whether if she had stayed the night, if she had said those words back, he would have let her have it, despite it being his favourite part of the meal.

"Tony," she began with a sigh, and he shook his head.

"Is this where you say you think it would be best if we stay friends… Forget about the lines we've crossed, the things we've said in the last week, and go back to the way it was?" he asked, every word dripping with spite.

"Tony, I do not know… I am unsure." She laughed nervously. "I have never been unsure in my life."

He looked at her, waiting for her to continue. He wouldn't let himself give her the smile that seemed to be on his lips whenever she was in the room. He stopped himself from reaching for her hand, from screaming as loud as he could "_stop being so afraid of being happy." _

"The sex is easy," she continued after a pause of waiting for his reaction, for his guidance. "But everything else, the feelings, the words, the consequences… I have never been good at that," she sighed.

He nodded, still waiting for her to finish, although he knew she thought she already had.

"Can we figure it out together?" She finally asked.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alrighty, only 5 chapters left, all of which have been completed. YAY! A chapter will be uploaded every day from now on****. However, reviews could persuade me to update even faster. :P**


	11. Unanswered

CHAPTER TEN

"_Can we figure it out together?"_

He gave in, grinning at her. "Absolutely."

She returned the smile, and waited with him for the nurses to discharge him. By the time she had driven him home, and they were on his couch watching a movie, she was having doubts again.

"Stop worrying," he told her, the concern clear on her face.

She exhaled. "What are we going to do when Gibbs finds out?" She asked, as he leant forward to stop the DVD.

"Are we really going to do this?" He asked her, and she frowned.

"Do what?"

"This," he gestured between them. "You come up with every possible reason for us not to be together, and then me, explaining why it won't be a problem?"

"Gibbs will surely make one of us change teams," she sighed, and he rolled his eyes.

"Guess so," he muttered, answering his own question. "Maybe Gibbs will never find out," he suggested, knowing as soon as the words came out of his mouth that they were ridiculous.

She laughed. "It is more likely that he already knows,"

"Yeah," he agreed. "You were way too worried after I got shot."

She swatted him on the arm without the bullet hole. "If anyone gives it away, it is you," she said.

"What about when it doesn't work out… Rule number twelve is there for a reason. Even if Gibbs were to not find out, when this ends, you will find work intolerable," she continued.

"And you won't?" He laughed, before turning to her, seriously.

"Why are you fighting this so hard?" He asked, his eyes searching for something in hers that he didn't find.

"Because this cannot end well. Sooner or later…" She trailed off.

"What makes you so sure this won't end well? How do you know it doesn't end with a white picket fence, a few little rug-rats and you and me?"

"What are rug-rats?" She frowned. "And what do they have to do with a white picket fence?"

"They're _kids_, Ziva. And the white picket fence is a symbol of the American dream… Look, that's not the point. Give us a chance."

His face was so earnest, so kind.

"There are things you don't know, Tony." She shook her head. "Things that I am not sure I am ready to share with you,"

"Well, when you're ready, I'll be there to listen," he promised. "I am not going anywhere."

She gave him a small smile, which he traced with his finger.

"Come here," he said gently, pulling her into an embrace. She lay with her back against his chest, as he placed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his good arm draped across her stomach.

"I love you, Ziva," he whispered in her ear. "Nothing will change that,"

"I am not so sure," she murmured almost inaudibly, words so soft that they drifted into the night, unanswered.

* * *

><p><strong>review? xx<strong>


	12. Scars

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She woke with his arm encircling her, keeping her in place. She wondered if this was the first time Tony had woken up next to a woman without having slept with her the night before. She knew it was a first for her. Even when Michael had been living at her apartment before he died, they had always had sex first. It seemed to give them an excuse to then fall asleep in silence.

"Morning, beautiful," he whispered, a smile spreading across his face. He could get used to this. Ziva being the first sight he saw when he woke up, the first scent he smelled, the first voice he heard.

"Good morning, Tony," she murmured sleepily. He loved how her accent seemed just that little bit stronger just after she woke up, and just before she fell asleep.

He checked the time. 5.45 am. When did he become an early riser? Oh yeah, when he had Ziva in his bed, and he didn't want to waste a moment of it sleeping.

"So, Ziv-ah, what did you have planned for today?" He asked playfully, hoping that her answer involved him.

"Well," she began lazily, trying to remember what Sunday's looked like before Tony was in the picture. Usually she would get up early to run, go to the gym, have a bath, do the grocery shopping…

"Nothing in particular," she answered instead. "Wouldn't mind staying in bed for a while," she smiled, and he grinned back.

"Sounds pretty damn good."

He kissed her slowly, then brushed the hair out of her face. His hand stopped at a blemish on her shoulder – the scar from a burn – and a flaw in the otherwise perfect olive skin. He pressed a kiss into it, hopelessly trying to make it disappear.

"Tony…" She sighed, and he dropped his hand.

"Sorry," he told her. He knew she didn't want to talk about it, it was an unspoken agreement. She would tell him when she was ready. He wasn't sure that _he _was ready. He hated the scars that her body bore, memories of an experience they would both rather forget.

"I'm sorry they hurt you, Ziva," he said simply, like a child.

Panic overwhelmed her. She wasn't ready to give this up yet. The comfort, his ignorance to what had truly happened that summer. The events that still occasionally caused her to wake in a sweat, questioning where she was. She knew he wouldn't be able to handle it, the truth. He would run, and once again, she would be alone. The last thing she wanted to be.

"Mmm," she agreed in response, at a loss as to what else to say, meanwhile vowing that he would never know just how deep the scars were.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: just a short one, but there will be more tomorrow :)**


	13. Bubble

CHAPTER TWELVE

Monday came far too quickly for their liking, a reminder that they could not live in the bubble they had created.

Tony returned with a sling, and orders that he was not allowed in the field until his arm had fully healed.

They were called out to a crime scene almost immediately, Tony left at his desk playing Tetris.

"Be careful," he told Ziva quietly, as she passed his desk.

She frowned. "It is a crime scene," she reminded him and he shrugged, keeping his eyes focused on his game.

"Yeah, but just remember you have McGee watching your back now, not me."

"Oh. McGee _will_ be watching my back," she bit her lip, deep in thought. "I already feel safer," she smirked, causing his eyes to leave his game and find hers.

"I'm serious," he told her.

"So am I," she grinned, her laugh being the last thing he heard as he returned to his game, the blocks already having stacked up to the top of the screen.

. . . . .

"Cause of death seems fairly evident," Ducky announced, as Ziva snapped photos of the body.

"Gunshot wound to the head." He continued.

"Tony can't be happy about being stuck at the office," McGee said, and Ziva laughed in response.

"He is not. But it is his own fault."

"Ziva, McGee," Gibbs called. "Go talk to the neighbour that called it in. And call DiNozzo, he can still do background on the guy with one arm."

. . . . .

Returning to the office, Tony was found in the same place they left him, only instead of being concentrated on Tetris, it was focused on the case.

"Got a lead boss," he announced as Gibbs entered the bullpen, followed by McGee and Ziva.

"It's McGeek work, really," he muttered, shutting up with one look from Gibbs.

"The wife's alibi doesn't check out. She was supposed to be at a conference in D.C but that's not what her credit cards say," he grinned, handing the paper to Gibbs.

"McGee, Ziva, go bring her in," they turned to leave, Ziva catching the warning look in Tony's eyes before following McGee to the elevator. He wasn't the only one that saw it.

"Something you want to tell me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, swallowing a knowing smirk.

"Not particularly," Tony responded, returning his gaze to the computer sheepishly, before standing to face his boss.

"Ziva and I aren't dating," he said, trying to muster all the confidence he had.

"But you're sleeping together," Gibbs stated, not a question or a confirmation, simply stating a fact they both knew to be true.

"So what if we are?"

"It will not end well," Gibbs warned, and Tony rolled his eyes.

"You sound like Ziva."

"Keep it out of the office," he gave a final warning, before leaving the bullpen. Tony fell back into his chair. He wanted to question why Gibbs had made such a big deal about EJ, when he barely raised his voice in their discussion about Ziva. But he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He smirked inwardly. What Ziva would do with that idiom. Well, if Gibbs was going to leave it at "keep it out of the office" then so would he.

. . . . .

"Gibbs confronted me about us," Tony said, gauging her reaction. She didn't flinch, didn't even turn her head.

"I expected that he would," he responded, her eyes fixed on the dead Petty Officer's wife who sat in the interrogation room, waiting for Gibbs.

"That's it? You're not interested in what he had to say?"

"I am more interested in figuring out who killed her husband, because it was not her," she told him, exiting the observation room without looking back.

He was really starting to hate it when she did that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I find it humorous that completely by accident the conversation with Gibbs about rule number twelve was in chapter number twelve. Awesome.**

**Again, next chapter will be up tomorrow. Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you :)**


	14. Simultaneous

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"I am aware that you want the wife to be the killer ever case we get, but this time, along with about ninety five per cent of our cases, she did not do it," Ziva insisted, as Tony followed her to the bullpen.

Ziva took a seat at her desk, Tony still hovering.

"Fine." She gave in, looking up at him. "What did Gibbs say?"

"He told me to keep it out of the office, that was pretty much it," he smiled.

"And what are you doing now?" She questioned, and he looked down at her with a confused frown. "You are not keeping it out of the office. If you were, we would be working on the case, not having this conversation."

He laughed, running a finger along her jaw despite the conversation they were having. She bit her lip in self-control and he grinned, for once able to read her like a book, before returning to his desk.

It was mere minutes later that Gibbs entered the bullpen, dropping a file on his desk.

"She didn't do it," he announced. "But get me everything you have on David Smith, she was having an affair with him."

It was almost six thirty by the time they found Smith and just after eight when Gibbs got a confession.

"Boyfriend kills the husband to have the wife all to himself. Not even McGee would write a plot so simple," Tony laughed, just happy to be on his way home.

"You guys want to join me and Abby for a drink?" McGee asked, as they entered the elevator.

They didn't even need to look at each other before answering simultaneously.

"No thanks, McGee."

. . . . .

"How does your arm feel?" She asked as they entered his apartment.

"Fine," he lied.

"You are lying," she told him and he shrugged.

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?" He inquired.

It was her turn to shrug. He didn't give her time to answer, his lips on hers, as with his free arm he guided her body back to rest against the closed door. He pinned her there, and while they both knew she could easily escape, they also knew she wasn't going to.

. . . . .

She woke with a start, sweat dripping from every pore of her body. She stilled as soon as she realised she wasn't alone, felling his presence without daring to check if he was awake. As soon as she had convinced herself he was asleep because his breathing was slow and steady, he spoke.

"You okay?" He whispered, reluctant to break the silence.

"Yes," she nodded fiercely.

He turned so he was now facing her back, reaching to touch her arm. She flinched involuntarily, and he drew back immediately.

"Sorry," she murmured, reaching behind her for his hand. She pulled his arm around her, kissing his hand softly.

"Are we going to talk about it?" He asked, and he felt her tense.

"Is it necessary?" She inquired.

"Is it?" He asked back, concern clear in his voice.

"I do not know what to say," she admitted. "I cannot control it, and that scares me," she confessed, as Tony's hold around her tightened.

"That's okay," he soothed.

"What do you see?" He asked after a pause, knowing he may not get an answer. "When you close your eyes?"

She had never felt safer, his arms around her, able to speak without seeing his reaction across his face. But that didn't make it any easier.

"The things they did to me," she spoke quietly, letting the words hang in the air. His grip tightened again, as he buried his head in her shoulder. Tears threatened to fall, but he held them back. He wasn't sure he could hear what they did to her. He knew her body only showed half the scars. But as he held he could feel her vulnerability, her trust in him. That was something he would never take for granted.

"I love you," he reminded her softly, and she turned to face him, tears glistening in her eyes.

She stayed silent, resting her hand on his cheek. "You should not," she murmured, "But I am glad you do."

He pushed her hair behind her ears, brushing his lips against hers.

"Always will," he promised.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, one more chapter to go! I did have a bit of trouble finishing this story, as when I started it I didn't really have an end in mind, so I hope it isn't too disappointing/anticlimactic. If you have the time to drop a comment that would be great, they always put a smile on my face.**


	15. Again

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It was an unusual day, filled with paperwork instead of fieldwork, something that only pleased Tony.

"I'm just glad I'm not spending the day alone and I have something to distract me," he declared, crumpling up a piece of paper and throwing it at McGee.

"Maybe you should just focus on your work, Tony," Ziva suggested, and he turned to her, her eyes sparkling as she smirked. She loved the control she now had over him.

"Sorry, Probie," he replied sincerely, his eyes not leaving Ziva's.

McGee's eyes narrowed. "How did you do that?" He asked suspiciously.

"I have something he wants," she answered carefully, and he grinned at her.

"That she does," Tony answered, unashamed.

Gibbs entered the bullpen, checking up on them, as Ziva and McGee looked up expectantly.

"No case," he clarified, and they sunk back in their chairs, disappointed.

"Don't kill each other," he warned, walking up the stairs to MTAC with a smirk, watching as Tony threw the next balled up piece of paper into the bin, instead of at Tim.

. . . . .

That night they slept at Ziva's, and Tony was getting used to not spending a moment apart. He just worried that it would get too much for her. It was early the next morning that they lay beside each other in her bed, Tony's had running up and down her bare back, accepting that he may never know every secret she carried, the cause of every scar, and that that was okay.

"I love you," he told her simply, not expecting a response.

"I suppose I love you too," she sighed, feigning reluctance with a grin.

He turned her so they were facing each other, noses a millimetre apart, as a smile spread across his face.

He kissed her softly, running his fingers through her hair.

"Say it again." He teased, whispering into the night.

THE END.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow. Already at the end of my first fanfic. Never fear, I shall return, quite soon I hope, with another Tiva story. Have already started writing it, I just want to be sure it has an end before posting anything :)**

**Thank you soooo much to every person who has read this fic, and to every one of you who has reviewed, or put this story in your alerts or in your favourite stories. Especially those of you who have left me feedback, it really motivates me to continue writing :)**

**- L**


End file.
